


Call me a Sinner: Prompt Stories

by TheSilverFrames



Series: Call me a Sinner [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Demons, Fallen Angels, Racism, Self-Esteem Issues, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:26:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 825
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSilverFrames/pseuds/TheSilverFrames
Summary: These are stories set in an a cartoon I wish to create in the future called "Call me a Sinner". The long and short of it is it's a world where demons, fallen angels and angels exist and each of them have a sin or virtue that enbodies them.This is just going to be a place to upload stories from my prompt book.





	Call me a Sinner: Prompt Stories

 The Under-realm was a lot different compared to the Over-realm or the Cloudlands. Solace learned that the first time he set foot in the legendary Under-realm he had heard so much about in the tales from his old home. He expected the land to be paved with the bones and fire, the sky to be filled with the wails and cries of sinful souls being tortured for their crimes and evil deeds, buildings to be carved from charred wood and coated with the blood of those who were damned to spend eternity here, but he was surprised to find that he was wrong. It was hotter there, not enough to be uncomfortable, but enough to where it was certainly noticeable. Solace remembered the day he entered the land of fire and demons.

The second he took a step through of the gates of blue flames and black iron, he was hit with a blast of warm air that danced across his skin and enveloped him in a sense of comfort, like a soft hug. The pure feeling of coziness make Solace’s wings twitch and flutter lightly under his cloak. It was all so intoxicating, and yet, so good…  _ so right.  _ The reds, oranges, and blacks that painted the land and surroundings made the Under-realm appear almost volcanic and oddly… _ pretty. _ The reds colored the ground, shades of crimson and scarlet lit the world as they mixed with orange and golden yellow to create the grand fire that decorated the Under-realm.

Trees were tall, with black bark akin to the night sky of the Over-realm and swirling scarlets and dark purples created the leafs, and covered in long tin branches. The buildings were early identical to the one’s in the Over-realm, only with more emphasis on fire and darker exteriors. All this was overlooked by a black, eternal night sky that, although it lacked stars and a moon, held a form of beauty in the simplicity it presented.

The Under-realm, despite what many had heard, was  _ beautiful. _

But not all in the Under-realm was as beautiful as it looked, for looks could be deceiving. Since day one, Solace had seen it. The disapproving stares he, Thaddeus and Seth got when they were out in the town, the almost disgusted tones the demons would take on at the mention of the term  _ ‘fallen angel’  _ when referring to him, and the one that hurt the most, the absolutely offended gazes he earned when a demon caught sight of his wings. They didn’t need to say anything, but he still heard what they were thinking.

“Did you hear? The Lust descendant has taken in a  _ fallen angel.”  _ Why was it a bad thing that Thaddeus took him in? Did it really matter that he was a fallen angel and not a full-blood demon? Was it his lack of horns or a tail? Was it truly a sin to be who he was, a fallen angel?

“I heard his parents were damned to  _ hell  _ by  _ God _ himself _.” They deserved it.  _ They deserved it after what they did. They were liars and evil,  _ evil _ beings that didn’t deserve to see the light of the day again. The demons didn’t know that however, they didn’t know he wasn’t the sinner, they were unaware of his innocence. They only knew of his parents and that they were damned. They assumed a child of two damned creatures must be same as them,  _ evil. _ The truth of the matter was, they looked for a  _ sinner, _ and didn’t see a child.

“Who would let one of  _ them _ into  _ our _ realm?”  _ ‘Them.’  _ It was always  _ ‘them.’ _ That was always the thing they called him, one of  _ ‘them.’ _ Something about that never ceased to make Solace’s wings twitch with dejection. To the demons, he wasn’t Solace, he was one of  _ ‘them’, _ he was a fallen  _ angel. _

These comments made his wings tighten closer to his back under the dark cloak he used to hide them under. Those whispered thoughts told from one demon to another, while spoken from ignorance and fear of something they had yet to understand, made a twinge of shame burn in Solace’s chest, and it went right to the bones of his wings. He felt  _ ashamed _ of how he was born. He was  _ disgusted _ with himself, everything about himself was  _ disgraceful. _ Most of all, he  _ hated _ his wings. He hated that the mixed the golden yellow of an angel with the charred black of a demon, he hated the white talons perched on them, he hated the fact that he couldn’t fly because of their stunted growth, he just… he just  _ hated _ them. The sad part was, he listened to his self-hatred, and he went to more extremes to hide his black and gold wings from the harsh words he heard day to day.

_ Even if the straining them against his back was uncomfortable and painful for the bones under the already tin feathers. _


End file.
